Soldier Gargs
by Jhessill
Summary: Rewritten. Jessica Smith and Aaron Vasquez were two soldiers at Fort Lewis, WA until a field exercise left the with new problems.
1. We are soldiers

DISCLAIMER

DISCLAIMER:

All the characters appearing in Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The Goliath Chronicles are copyright Buena Vista Television/The Walt Disney Company. No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder.

All other original characters belong to me and may not be used with my permission.

--

August 17, 1993

Specialist Smith wiped the grime off her hands and stood up, arching her back as she tried to get the kinks out. "Right here," she called to the c-truck that was rumbling her direction, kicking up the Yakima dust into a small whirlwind. "Hey Vasquez, how are you? I need a hole here." She pointed to the small trench she had dug while waiting for the large machine.

Spc. Vasquez smiled with a "Won't complain," and the green machine lurched into action as he began to dig a hole about six feet deep. _You know, everyone looks the same in these uniforms, but the way Smitty fills hers out._ He did his best to pile the dirt as close to the hole as possible. "You sure you don't want any help here, Smith?"

"Well, quite honestly, yes," she replied. "However, this is corrective training for talking out of turn with my platoon sergeant. It was either this or a more formal punishment… you know, articles and the like." She grimaced as she recalled her lapse of judgment when she disagreed with her prior orders. "Besides," she replied, "keeps me away from the smell of those trucks for a while."

"Well, if you change your mind, I'll be around." His brown eyes sparkled as he nodded at her and worked the machine towards another soldier standing about fifty feet away. "Let me know if you discover a lost civilization down there," he called back with a chuckle.

_He's a sweetheart_. Smith nodded with a smile and grabbed her e-tool. "You bet. We'll be partners," she called after him, her green eyes shining back at him. _And we rake the dirt from here, put it in the bag, tie it off, throw it in the hole, and repeat,_ she thought. With a short pause, she put a single ear bud from her Walkman into her ear and then continued. _This is stupid! My suggestion was a rational one! Why should I be out here doing this when that __**IDIOT**__ is in the air-conditioned tent up there? That frigging AC wouldn't work if __**I**__ hadn't fixed it in the first place!_ Her shovel clunked against something solid…interrupting her thoughts…and grumbling as she set the shovel aside, she kneeled in the dirt. "What the hades is this?" Brushing the dirt away, she uncovered a small metal box. _Damn, I don't have time to open this now. What can I do with it? _ Taking an empty sandbag, she stowed the box in it… determined to ward off her curiosity until later when it wouldn't cost her rank. _What's in the box,_ she thought as she went back to work.

The sandbags made a satisfying thump as they hit the bottom of the foxhole. Following them down, Jessica stomped them into a solid floor…thinking again of the bag she had left outside the hole. _Maybe someone left it here from a previous field exercise._ With a hearty grunt, she hefted herself out of the hole and returned to filling sandbags. _I mean I've heard of soldiers burying their valuables at the field site. Maybe someone just forgot them?_ After about a dozen more were filled, she threw them into the foxhole with the others... packing the rest of the bottom with them. _There,_ she thought. _Phase one is now complete_.

Pulling herself out of the hole, she examined the box she had found. It was rusted and very rough as she ran her hands over it; and wound up with rust covered hands when she reached the sides. _It's got to be at least fifty years old…maybe sixty, but with the weather here, who knows._ Her left hand twitched a bit as she reached for her Gerber multitool and yet at the same time ran her right hand along the front of the box again. _There's something written here in runes._ "Damn, I knew I should have took my rune study a bit more seriously," she muttered. Being Wiccan and somewhat interested in the magics of the world around her, Jessica sat in thought. _The right thing to do is turn it in to HQ and let them deal with it. However, since it doesn't seem to be military related… I'm going to take it home with me… if I can find a way to get it into my foot locker._

--

"Hey Smith," Vasquez shouted from a few yards away. "Chow time. Beef or chicken?" He held up two brown plastic bags labeled MRE.

Smith wrinkled her nose. "A Meal Rejected by Everyone," she groaned. "What are you trying to do, kill me?"

"Never!" He feigned hurt, but then nodded. "However, Sarge said to take one of these out to you and I agreed to make sure you choked it down."

She grinned. "Thanks, Aaron. You're a real lifesaver." With a mock death of her own, she closed her Gerber and set it aside.

"No problem, Jess. Here, you get chicken." He tossed her the M.R.E.

"Eww, cardboard flavored food," she groaned again as she caught the meal. "Hey, you remember your Runes study?" _Shouldn't have done that. I don't need to get him in trouble too,_ she thought as she ripped off the top of her meal bag. _Bah, he's already seen it._

Aaron joined her on the edge of the foxhole. "Some of them. Why, what'd you find?" He arched an eyebrow at the box in her lap. "A lost civilization?"

"I don't know," she replied as she handed the worn box over to him. "It's got runes along the front part. I was going to try breaking the lock, but what does it say?"

Aaron remembered the long hours laboring beside his friend as they worked on their Rune magic… smirking as he recalled Jessica throwing her book away in disgust right before they got the idea to join the service and get away from their hole in the wall hometown. _And we wanted Fort Lewis as our first duty station._ They suffered through their nine weeks of 'hell' in BCT with letters… mainly a paper chessboard for chess by mail game. Their advance training had landed them both at Fort Jackson, but in different companies. It wasn't all bad as they frequently saw each other on the PT field and every weekend they had free. _And KP duty,_ he chuckled. _Man, the others must have thought we enjoyed the kitchen to our studies. Honestly though, we just can't stay out of mischief when we're together. _

_Ok, he's lost in thought,_ Jess waved her left hand in front of Aaron's eyes as her right one worked the meal package. "Yo, Romeo, you in there?"

_If only I was your Romeo._ He blinked and gave her a light shove. "Yeah, yeah. Let me see." Running his own hands across the box, he frowned. "The runes are really aged. We'd have to check it out back in 'the box' if we really wanted to be careful. It seems to say, "Protect the race that was bred to protect the rest". Roughly translated, of course." He shook his head. "I don't know what you're going to do with it, but it seems… interesting enough."

Jess nodded. "Ok. So I can take it off site and you won't tell anyone? I mean you know how picky they are about that." She held her forearm out to him.

"Deal," he agreed, grasping her forearm as she clasped his. "I'll put it in your sleeping bag after we eat."

She nodded again. "Thanks, darlin'," she purred.

He smiled as he released her. "So, when are you actually going to admit you like me as more than just a friend?"

"The day I fly," she chuckled. _You know I like you, why do I have to admit it to the world?_ After glancing around, she leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "We're still young. We already agreed that when our ETS dates came up we'd take our next steps then. Why so eager to rush it? No one here worth looking at?"

He chuckled. "The only one worth looking at is right here in front of me." _Dear gods, Jess, I've been sweet on you since you were in pigtails. _

"Flatterer," she blushed, deciding now was a good time for a topic change. "So, you pick the entrees?"

"Nope, was tossed at me when I volunteered," he replied.

A short time later the box was stowed safely on the bottom of a sandbag concealed by the trash. "Merry part," Aaron intoned.

"Merry part," she smiled back at him.

--

Nearing two in the morning, SPC Smith examined her defensive position. _It looks concealed, _ she thought, _but at this hour and in this light anything would have been difficult to see. _ She gave a yawn that would have done a lion proud and began to scatter the remaining dirt. Her foot struck something and sent it skittering into the darkness. _What in the world? That was no rock_. Curious, she took out her red-lensed flashlight and began to scour the area nearby.

_There!_ About five paces to her left, she saw it. A worn leather bag of some sort lay in the dirt. _Odd,_ she thought as she picked up the bag and examined it. It was well aged, most of the leather dirt encrusted and the bag its self sported several holes. There was barely enough of the bag left to call it a bag even. _I wonder if it went with the box. Well, no harm in concealing it in my pocket. _ She stumbled off in the direction of the tent for some sleep before PT.

With a simple movement, the sleeping bag was unzipped and the box sat staring at her. Jessica frowned as she pulled her boots off and got dressed in her PT's for bed. _Thanks Aaron. Now I have to hide these in my footlocker; less chance of them being discovered there._ Quietly unlocking the padlock on the footlocker in question, she quickly shuffled around the bogey bait and the rest of her clothes…creating the perfect spot for her discoveries. _And to complete the picture…_ She placed her clothes neatly back on top of the box and bag. _If I get woke up between now and PT_, she grumbled, _I will murder the one who wakes me._

--

August 18, 1993 circa 0330

"Specialist Smith!" The loud voice of Sergeant Kasandy boomed through the tent.

Smith sat straight up in her cot and looked around, still lost in the haze of sleep. "Yes, sergeant?" She scrambled to get her sleeping bag unzipped and to stand up at the same time - effectively tripping her self and hitting the floor with a resounding thud. A groan let her NCO know she was listening.

Sergeant Kasandy shook his head. "The commander wants you and a battle buddy in his office in BDU's ASAP."

She looked up at him. "Am I in trouble sergeant? I mean I did what Sergeant

Nickelson told me to do. I didn't mean to question him, it sort of came out."

The sergeant's eyes softened. "No. You've all ready been disciplined for that. I know it's not for that." The look on his face said he could say no more about it though.

"Thank you, sergeant. Is Vasquez awake?"

"Yes, I woke him before you."

"Thank you again, sergeant." She pulled herself out of her sleeping bag as SGT

Kasandy turned his back to her.

"So I recall you saying that you both had a pretty good life? What made you join the Army then?"

Jessica chuckled. "Actually, we don't have a reason." She pulled her PT's off and then pulled her brown tee and pants on. "I'm decent," she told him.

He turned around. "No reason?"

With a nod, she pulled on her black socks and then tugged on her boots as she spoke. "We went everywhere together, though as we grew up I was just another one of the guys. When we hit high school, we had to choose a course we could do together or else run into the whole classes suck problem. We chose ROTC. We excelled, actually." She shook her head. "We got a surprise visit from a recruiter one afternoon in our senior year and just signed up. We were both eighteen at the time. Only thing we wanted was a starting duty station to be the same. I chose mechanic, he chose truck driver." Quickly finishing with the tying of her boots, she stood up and pulled her DCU top on. "Seems to work here. I'm his mechanic and we're still the best of friends." She smiled. "My mother was the only one who supported us at first, but then again, she was prior service too. My brothers thought it was pretty cool, but dad forbids them from taking ROTC in high school. They're only 12 or will be," she looked at her watch, "in six hours."

_I'd hate to be in the commander's shoes right now._ Sergeant Kasandy's eyes flinched a bit as he listened to the specialist talk. "Are you ready?"

Spc. Smith nodded. "Yes," she replied as she put on her Kevlar and her LBV (Load Bearing Vest). "Sergeant." Grabbing her M-16 from where it had been in her sleeping bag, she followed the sergeant out of the tent and towards the commander's tent.

Vasquez met them halfway. "Hey Smitty, what'd you do this time," he asked.

"Sergeant," he acknowledged.

Spc. Smith shrugged. "I don't know yet."

"Ooh, the best kind of trouble," he chuckled, giving her a nudge in the side.

Sergeant Kasandy snorted at the two young adults. _These two have got to be two of the best two soldiers this company has…save the fact they are usually causing some sort of mischief._ "Why? Cause then you don't have to admit to what they don't know?"

"Exactly," Vasquez grinned.

--

A few moments later they were standing outside the commander's tent. "Specialist Smith reporting as ordered, sir," the female said crisply.

"Enter, Specialist and bring your battle buddy."

Jessica lifted the flap of the tent and entered, feeling a bit calmer with her friend there. They each gave a sharp salute and then the waited. _I really just wish they'd forget about making us salute in the field. I don't care if we are in a tent. If this was war they'd not want the rank singled out, right? _

Returning the salute the two soldiers had given, the commander sat down... indicating they sit as well. His usually stern face was creased with worry. His baldhead reflected the single bulb hanging over the table he was using as a desk. It gave off a feeling of an old war movie tent, with maps and papers all over the place with just enough light to see by. "Specialist Smith, Specialist Vasquez. I'm not surprised to see the two of you here together when I only wanted the one."

They said nothing, as there was no indication a response was wanted.

"It's for the best I suppose," he said as he stood up. He picked up a small square slip of paper and walked around the table. "Specialist Smith," he began. "Jessica, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your mother and two brothers were involved in a car accident last night. There were no survivors."

_What? _ Jessica didn't move for several long seconds, even though Vasquez immediately turned her direction. _This is some sick joke. Mom is never out that late. Hell, she's in by sunset._ Reaching a shaky hand out towards the slip of paper, she took it from the commander and read it herself. The Red Cross alert simply said: 40th Trans. Spc. Smith: Mother, 2 brothers involved in fatal crash circa 1:05 AM 18Aug1993. Send home. _No, it's a lie._ Staring numbly at the paper, she didn't notice when Vasquez laid his hand on her shoulder.

"Smitty," Aaron called, "are you ok?" _Man, snap out of it, hun_. "Talk to me, Smitty."

"No," she whispered numbly.

"Get your gear packed and go see Sergeant Kascandy – both of you. He will be driving you back to Fort Lewis. Dismissed."

_Stand up, salute, leave._ She moved through the base camp silently… on autopilot…seeing neither things to her left nor to her right. Upon arriving, she mutely packed her gear away and then sat on her empty cot. _Momma, why? What were you doing out so late with the boys? _ She sat staring at the wall of the tent for several long moments with the slip of paper crumpled in her hand before Sergeant Kascandy entered the tent.

"Come on, Smith," Kasandy said, hefting her to her feet. "Vasquez is packed and we're waiting on you now. It's about a six hour ride as you know, so we're going to bring a portable radio…maybe we can find something that will make you feel a little better on the way back." He spoke mainly to keep noise going throughout the suddenly silent tent. He hadn't seen Smith shed a tear, but he could see the hurt she tried to hide. "Crying for loved ones isn't a crime," he reminded her gently. "Nor it is a weakness."

She nodded mutely and grabbed her rucksack as Sgt. Kasandy grabbed the footlocker. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"You're welcome and I'm sorry."

She nodded again.

--

The trip back was quiet. Even the Humv seemed to run more silently than usual. The trees, buildings, and surrounding countryside passed unseen. Only the steady rise and fall of her chest gave Jessica life. She didn't blink for several long moments at a time, her eyes glazed over as her grief swallowed her.

_"But dad, I'm not even dating yet!" _

_Mr. Charles Smith glared at his daughter. "I said no. You already got away with joining that ROTC crap; you are not going to that dance."_

_Jessica frowned at her father. "It's part of my grade! Do you want me to fail the damn course?" Her senior year. The last great milestone in her ROTC course required professionalism at a social event, so the ROTC ball was hosted every year for that purpose. And here was her father, telling her she couldn't attend. _

_"You do not talk to me in that manner," her dad scolded._

_"Well, you sure the hell don't deserve anything better right now." It was a low blow, but decorum was out the window. "You have no right to tell me how to live my life." _

_"I'm your father," he reminded her. _

_"STEP-father," she emphasized._

One memory bled into another.

_The lawyer closed the folder in front of him. "And we're done here. You're no longer married." _

Into another.

_"Our first duty station will be right here at Fort Lewis. We'll be able to visit as often as you like mom." _

_Catherine looked at the two young adults standing in front of her. "I'm so proud of you two. In the Army. It's a wonderful career." _

_Thomas and Michael, Jessica's twin brothers, hopped around excitedly. "Will you write to us? Will you send us presents?"_

_Jess chuckled. "You know I will." She messed up Thomas's hair and gave Michael a hug. "I'll see you guys in December."_

Aaron tugged her arm gently. "Jess, we're here."

Jessica blinked a few times, clearing her vision. "That was fast," she mumbled as she stepped out of the vehicle.

Fort Lewis was green. It was always green; the rain kept things that way. The odd thing was, it wasn't raining right then. The sun was shining brightly and it was about 70. Birds chirped at one another and other soldiers could be heard marching somewhere in the distance. Jessica found herself mouthing the words with them. _Momma, momma can't you see? What this Army's done to me? Momma, momma, can't you see? What this Army's done to me?_ Her eyes glazed again as she struggled to remain on her own two feet. Her gear was stowed in Vasquez' room, except for her LBV and Kevlar which she still wore.

Nodding to Sgt. Kasandy, Vasquez led Jessica to the sergeant's car and then went to speak with the noncom again. Nodding in Smith's direction, Kasandy went to his car and got in it.

Jessica barely noticed.

"You have to ID the bodies, Smith. Can you handle that?"

She blinked. "Sure," she replied hoarsely.

--

She wouldn't remember the trip from her company to the hospital or the long mile from the car to the basement of Madigan. What she would remember was way her hand shook as she pushed open the wooden swinging door with the lone window to the morgue. She'd remember the dozen paces it took to get from the door to where the coroner stood. Her heart seemed to move up into her throat as she moved. Finally, the coroner removed the first sheet. "Michael" she whispered, her eyes blurring. Then, the next. "Thomas" she choked out. And finally, "M..mo..mom." Her knees buckled, but she managed not to hit the floor as she watched the bodies being slid back into their drawers. She stood staring at the drawers for what felt like eternity as SGT Kasandy and the coroner talked off to her left.

Finally the coroner offered her a clipboard. "You need to sign this and take their personal affects."

Staring blankly at the sheet, she managed to sign her name somewhere near the line. A few moments later, she was handed a small bag of affects. Inside were Thomas' reading glasses, her mother's jewelry, and Michael's dog tags. Their IDs fell out into the palm of her hand… their pictures smiling up at her as if nothing in the world was wrong.

--

The next several days passed in a blur as she laid her family to rest. So much went on behind the scenes that Jess hadn't thought about until then. As per her mother's wishes, she was buried next to her first husband. Her brothers were laid to rest to the left of their mother.

--

September 8th, 1993

Aaron woke up late one night a couple weeks after the funeral when he heard a door open. Jessica had asked that he stay with her until she was comfortable in her house again, so he had. Carefully slipping into his pants and shoes, he followed the noise. The stairs creaked a bit, but not enough to alert anyone of his presence. He was surprised to find the dining room light on, but more surprised by the fact the box and scrolls were on the table. What surprised him even more was the sight of Jessica's receding form. She was headed out into the night in black jeans and a tee. He grabbed a set of keys, locked the door as he left, and followed her into the night; plucking a rose from the garden before he left. He was pretty sure of where she was going.

--

Her feet lead her along the familiar path to her destination. She had followed it for ages after her father died and now she did so because the rest of her family was gone.

Her heart ached, but she had yet to cry. Even at the funeral whispers had started about how cold she must be not to shed a tear at her own family's passing. She ignored them, determined not to show any weakness in her uniform. Her mother would be proud of her, knowing she did her legacy justice. Her mother hadn't cried at her father's passing until almost two days later, in private.

The grass was wet; Washington living up to "the rainy state" it is dubbed by the people who don't actually lived there more than a week. It would soon rain again, if the clouds were any indication. Jessica stopped when she reached her destination and stared for a brief moment before stretching her shaking left hand out to touch the cold marble headstone that marked where her family lay. Her fingers traced the engraved words, memorizing them. "Dad, mom, Thomas, Michael" she whispered, her voice cracking. Finally overwhelmed, she hit her knees and buried her face in her hands as the sky let loose with a cold rain. Her sobs grew louder until she was crying, screaming at the Fates and their sadistic sense of humor. The Fates then received a swift string of profanities as she broke back into tears. Very wet at that point, she sniffled and laid her head against the tombstone. "Why'd you leave me," she whispered. "I don't want to be alone."

Aaron sighed and watched his life long friend release all her hurt. Singing softly, he found solace in a simple chorus and lifted his voice so Jess would hear him.

_"There are holes in the floor of Heaven and her tears are pouring down._

_That's how you know she's watching, wishing she could be here now._

_Sometimes when you're lonely, remember she can see._

_Cause there's holes in the floor of Heaven, and she's watching over you and me."_

Her tears fell harder than before as she released her pain into the wet Earth that separated her and her family. Her life lay covered by six feet of dirt in all directions around her. Finally, in a fit of more pain than rage, she lifted her face to the sky and screamed - long and loud before collapsing.

Aaron's hairs on the back of his neck stood up slightly at the inhuman scream that escaped from Jessica. She sounded like her soul was being forcibly ripped from her body. Shaking his head when she fell back to the Earth, he moved towards her. Leaving the single rose on the headstone, he scooped up his friend and let his feet carry them towards home.

--

September 13th, 1993

One night a few days later, Jessica sat at her kitchen table snacking on some cold bacon. The box sat on the table and she had the bag of scrolls opened carefully in front of her.

A hand snaked over and nabbed a piece of bacon from the plate. Aaron had several books open in front of him. "Are we sure we want to play with this? Goddess only knows what we're going to find."

"But it'll be FUN," she grinned. "Who knows what's on these scrolls. It'll make for something different."

"It could also fry us into smoldering ashes."

"Yeah, yeah," she said, dismissing the thought quickly. "But we'll never know if we don't try." She pushed a scroll over to him and pulled the box over to her suddenly waiting Gerber multitool. "What I wouldn't give for a knock spell," she muttered as she began to try and pick the lock.

Aaron chuckled. "Yeah, and a decoder ring."

Opening the multitool and using the knife as a lock pick, Jessica wiggled the bladed around, testing the tumblers. After a few moments of nothing, something clicked. Removing the knife confirmed that it wasn't the blade and she watched the lid pop up a few centimeters. "Um, it opened."

Aaron rolled his eyes and nodded. "I see that. Look here, so did this scroll," he replied with a touch of light sarcasm.

The box lay forgotten for a moment as Jessica moved around to peer over Aaron's shoulder. "So, what's it say?"

Reaching for a second, Aaron's eyebrow went up. "It seems to be a history. Something of the sorts, at least. A 'clan Yakeema'. Probably where we got Yakima from," he said with a shrug. He seemed to be reading a label on the scroll because he put it aside and grabbed another. Setting that one aside, he grabbed for the last one and pulled it open. "Look, look, look, look, look," he jabbered. "This scroll references a, a map. This one is the map." He waved his hand excitedly. "This is where you found these things." He pointed to an area on the map that she recognized. "It says here," he indicated the first scroll, "that 'Twice three shall sleep in stone until the castle rises.' Do you think that's talking about Castle Wyvern in Manhattan? Some guy named Xanatos bought it and is putting it atop the Aerie Building there."

Jessica gave a shrug. "Maybe, but what's this twice three? And sleep in stone?"

Aaron shook his head. "I don't know, but here's an inscription of some sort." He squinted a bit as he translated it out loud.

_"Protectors of the night,_

_Who sleep by the sun's searing light, _

_Let them who read this know our fight, _

_To them grant our way of life._

_No curse upon them we would place, _

_So gift to them wakeful days." _

He paused for a moment and turned to her. "That was spell," he said needlessly.

Jessica nodded. "You think?" She shook her head. "Maybe it's a good thing it's only Friday night."

"Ok, so I just read a possibly powerful spell. Nothing happened."

Jessica wasn't listening. She had moved towards the window. "Correction. You just cast a possibly powerful spell on the night of a possible full moon with an even greater possibility of it being a BLUE moon, since we were supposed to hold Circle tomorrow night for it! Damn Aaron, the only thing we were missing was the regent - if it requires one anyway!"

Aaron frowned as he looked at the box, which was smoking slightly. "Um, I think it had regents." He pointed to the box. "Shall we see if the box has anything in it?"

Tossing her hands up in the air, Jessica nodded. "Sure, what's the worst that could happen?"

"It could fry us into smoldering ashes."

"Yeah, so you've said." She flipped the box top open and was knocked back by a blinding flash of light. "Sonofapigheadedfrog!"

"Fudge," Aaron hollered as he was thrown from his chair.

--

Jessica rubbed her eyes briefly and blinked a couple of times when she poked herself in the eye. "Oww, anyone get the number of that bus?" A gasp from Aaron brought her attention to him. "Aaron," she asked as she reached out to him. The sight of her own hand made her stop. Slowly, she brought it up to her face and wiggled her ... four talons. A scream got caught in her throat. Scrambling to her feet, she promptly felt like she was going to fall over again. She was balancing on the balls of her feet - only they didn't look like her feet. They had three front talons and a rear one. Her skin was thick and leathery and had deepened to a dark mahogany color. Clothes hung in tatters around her new form as she moved to get a glimpse of herself in the mirror. An alien, almost demonic face looked back at her - causing her to stumble back against the wall. Something stopped her from leaning completely against the wall and when she examined what that something was, she realized it was a tail! Looking back into the mirror, she traced the new shape of her ears and the ridges above her eyes. She had grown about eight or nine inches and now stood about six feet tall. Twin sets of horns had erupted from her hair - one set only a couple inches high inside a set that must have been about six inches long, despite the slight backwards curve to them. Wings laid relaxed behind her, topped with a single clawed digit on them. "AARON," she finally choked out.

Aaron, who had made a very similar discovery as his friend, appeared in the doorway of the bathroom. He was a deep green in color, almost like a dark forest would appear, and about six and a half feet tall. Only a single set of horns graced his head, though the ridges above his eyes were more prominent than Jessica's. His wings were ribbed like a bat's and had a tiny claw hand on them. "Um, pinch me," he said, fangs appearing as he spoke.

Jessica quickly grinned into the mirror. She too had fangs. "This is why we NEVER read things out loud until we know what will happen."

Aaron wiggled his wings. "I wonder if these work."

"I'm wondering how we're going to explain this to our chain of command," Jessica growled. This caused her eyes to flare scarlet for the briefest second. Remembering the spell, she looked out the window. "Who sleep by the sun's searing light? Does this mean at sunrise we're going to fall asleep?"

"I don't know, but I think we'd better call someone. It also said something about not cursing us and 'wakeful days'. And maybe you'd like to find something a little less ... revealing?" He pointed to her nearly nude body, as the scraps of clothing weren't covering all that much.

Growling lightly, Jessica tore the scraps off her and stalked to her room. "Yeah,

I'll see if I can whip something up for the both of us."

Aaron let out a wolfish whistle and reached for the phone. Using the device though took a little bit of patience as his talon kept punching two numbers. "You know," he called, "this is why voice command is so popular."

"Why," she called from her bedroom, "fat fingers?"

"Yeah," he chuckled.

--

A short while later Jessica had successfully altered a pair of her uniform pants to fit her new form. Other jeans were just too tight around the ankles and didn't allow for a proper fit anywhere else. A black tee shirt stretched across her chest and twin holes in the back let her wings remain unhindered. "Do you know," she complained, "just how many shirts I've destroyed trying to figure out how to thread our wings through them?"

"Nope," Aaron replied, "but I think you're about to tell me."

"Damn right." She tossed him a pair of pants. "Eight. Eight of my uniform shirts. That's why I'm in black and you get brown."

Chuckling, Aaron pulled the shirt over his head. He felt his friend move around him to help with his wings. Twitching a little, he groaned when she placed her hand between his wings.

"What? Did I hurt you?"

With a downward glance, Aaron shook his head. "Um, no," he coughed. "I think I need to read those scrolls completely before Sergeant Kasandy gets here." As Jessica stepped away, the male quickly hid himself at the table.

Confused, but satisfied, Jessica shrugged and stepped towards the kitchen. "Alright. I'm going to make something to eat. You want?"

Aaron nodded absently, his attention drawn to something on a scroll. "Oh, he should be here in about an hour."

She glanced at the clock. "Why's he coming at midnight?"

"Because he's at the movies right now with his wife. He's going to drop her off and then head right over. I text him when I didn't get an answer. That took forever."

"Oh."

--

At eleven fifty-six the doorbell chimed, causing them both to jump. As Aaron moved towards the door Jessica said, "You realize we're so busted for this, right?"

He chuckled dryly. "Yup." Hesitating for a moment as his hand reached for the door, he swallowed his nerves and opened the door widely. "Sergeant, come in."

Sergeant Kasandy nodded as he entered, but jerked his head back around to the male specialist. "What the hell?!"

"I told you we had an accident," Aaron explained hastily.

"I was assuming accident meant that Smith here was pregnant." The NCOs eyes had traveled the height of the male twice before he turned to the female sitting at the table. "I'm too shocked to even pass out at this point. I think someone needs to fill me in COMPLETELY. And Smith, that shirt is not authorized with that uniform."

Jessica ran her talons though her hair. "Yes, Sergeant, I know." She pointed to the bedroom. "I kind of destroyed my brown tees when I tried to make my wings cooperate with me."

The sergeant looked them over again. "So, who's going to explain to me what happened? And do you know what you are?"

"Retrospectively, yes and me." Aaron escorted the human to the chair across from Jessica. "According to," he shuffled a scroll around until it lay in front of him, "this we're gargoyles. From sunrise to sunset, they will 'sleep a stoned sleep'. When the sun vanishes, they'll wake up and look as we do. However, we're hoping the whole 'wakeful days' thing cancels that out." He quickly covered the basic points that the scroll had given them. "We don't fly, we glide. We'll need more protein in our diets - meats. We're pretty much protectors. According to this scroll, the urge to protect will be extremely hard to ignore." He continued in depth after the brief summary.

Jessica, who had already heard this, stood up to pace.

--

Dawn would freeze the two gargoyles in stone. One had been pacing the length of the dining room and the other one with his taloned hand raised in explanation to the befuddled human seated next to him.

Sergeant Kasandy rubbed his hands over his eyes. He'd been listening to his soldier explain to him everything they understood. Shaking his head, he ran his fingers down the wing of the stone figure in front of him. After a moment, he tapped the statue. It was solid, cool to the touch. "Well, this would explain the stone sleep. And it lasts til sunset?" He moved toward the female gargoyle, frozen mid-step. Worry creased her stone form. "Don't worry, Smith," he said, "I promise to keep you and Vasquez safe. First, I need to tell our chain of command. I can't guarantee your continued service in the military though." For some reason, one he couldn't figure, he felt a pull to the young soldiers nearby. Maybe it was just the fact they had been under his command for almost two years now. It could be the fact they had confided in him. They may have just gone up their chain of command, but he gave them credit that there may have been better people to contact than an e-5 - like the commander and first sergeant. He thought of snapping a picture of the two with his cell phone, but decided against it. Instead, he simply dialed said first sergeant.

--

Same day, sunset

Sergeant Jack Kasandy stood with three other people of significant - judging from their uniforms. Having asked the three men to wear their uniforms for the sake of the stoned soldiers in front of him, Jack felt no need to try and explain anything more than he had when they had arrived. First to arrive had been his commander, Captain Gilhoon. He was about thirty with blue eyes that reflected utter confusion and disbelief as he gazed upon the two stone forms in front of him. The first sergeant, First Sergeant Sweet - also about forty - was a big black man; though twenty years of lifting weights tends to do that to a person. He had given each gargoyle a careful looking over, noting several things before stepping back. Last to arrive was Colonel Caldwell, the battalion commander. At forty-five with salt and pepper hair, he stood several inches over the others. He seemed shocked, but kept a tight mask over his expression after a second.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, tiny cracks appeared on the surface of the statues. They grew, spreading out and creating a criss cross pattern of web like scars all over. A bright white glow shone from the eyes of the male as he suddenly stood up and roared. Scarlet light seemed to erupt from the roaring female. Stone skin shards showered everyone in the room; even though they had taken several steps back in surprise. The tinkling of breaking glass let the humans know that some things hadn't escaped unharmed.

Aaron and Jessica finished their roars with yawns and blinked as they took in their surroundings. Naturally, the first thing they noticed was the officers. Snapping to attention, they saluted and chorused, "Good evening, sirs!"

Caldwell shook his head as he returned the salute.

The two gargoyles snapped back to attention, and then waited for further instructions.

Their first sergeant chuckled. "Why am I not surprised that this happened to the two of you?" He moved as he spoke, examining them as carefully as he had when they were stone.

"Permission to speak freely," Gilhoon told them before they asked.

Jessica's eyes shifted to Aaron, who nodded in her direction. "Sir," she started, "while at the Yakima training exercise approximately three weeks ago, I uncovered the box and scrolls on the table. Keeping them for the sole purpose of examining what I discovered, I only shared the information with Spc. Vasquez. Last night, at approximately nine, we were deciphering the scrolls. Sir, this may be hard to believe, but we accidentally cast a spell that made us what we are, sir." She paused, turning her eyes back towards Aaron. "While I went to find, well, make us some suitable clothes, Spc Vasquez called someone we thought we could trust - Sgt. Kasandy. Sir, we talked until sunrise and I don't recall anything until waking up and breaking free of that stone shell, sir."

"How did that feel," 1sg Sweet asked. "You looked a bit panicked."

Aaron spoke up first. "Kind of interesting, first sergeant. It's like the most recuperative rest I've ever gotten."

"Scary as all get go, first sergeant," Jessica added. "I didn't know what was going on. Just before waking, I was aware. Not being able to move, wondering if I was going to suffocate. I think roaring scared me more than it did everyone else, first sergeant."

The Csm. spoke the plain truth. "Not everyone is going to accept what you've become. You aren't human anymore."

Jessica gave a snarl. "I may not look like I did, but I'm no less human than you are." Her eyes blazed scarlet for a moment before she realized what she had said.

"Sergeant Major," she added after an uncomfortable few seconds.

Captain Gilhoon chuckled. "I see your temperament wasn't cooled by any of this."

"No, sir," she admitted, "it appears not, sir."

Silence reigned for a few moments before Jack cleared his throat and spoke up. "So, sirs, what ARE we going to do with them?"

To be continued...


	2. Oopsie

DISCLAIMER

DISCLAIMER!:

All the characters appearing in Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The Goliath Chronicles are copyright Buena Vista Television/The Walt Disney Company. No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder.

All other original characters belong to me and may not be used with my permission.

The four humans and two gargoyles stared at each other from their places in the dining area. It was First Sergeant Sweet who broke the silence. "You know Smith, that tee shirt isn't authorized with that uniform," he said.

Jessica clapped a clawed hand to her face, moved to attention, backed up a step, and walked away quickly. She returned and held out a handful of brown scraps. "Thank you first sergeant, I realize that. However, these are what remain of my brown shirts after trying to get into something decent, first sergeant." Dropping the shirts into a heap at her feet, she moved back to where she had started.

Jack Kasandy groaned beneath his own hand and gave a shake of his head to the specialist. "If we could, let's figure out what to do and then worry about uniform dress codes. Smith, why don't you make something for everybody?"

Growling low, Smith snapped to attention, did an abrupt about face, and headed for the kitchen. "What do I look like," she mumbled to herself as she got out of earshot, "a maid? So much for equal opportunity in the military."

Back in the dining area, Specialist Vasquez had been given the rest order, snapped to attention, and made a small gesture for the officer and NCOs to sit down. "Um, sirs, if you give have any questions I'll try to answer what we know. I'm sure Sergeant Kasandy filled you in as to what he knows - which is really all we kno…"

Captain Gilhoon placed a hand on the male specialist's shoulder. "Calm down son," he chuckled. "You're as nervous as a long tail cat in a room full of rockers. We're not going to bite yer head off here."

Aaron nodded and for a moment let his calm demeanor slip. "So, what is going to happen to Smith and me?" He wrung his hands in slight agitation. "A military career wasn't really our goal, but we were at least hoping to complete our enlistment, sir."

The colonel nodded and settled into a chair. "We'll get to all that as soon as possible. First of all, why didn't you and Smith bring this stuff you found," here he indicated the scrolls and box still on the table, "to the attention of your superior officers?"

Smith returned from the kitchen with several mugs of coffee balanced on a tray, a sugar container in the tray free hand, and a gallon of milk clasped by her tail. "Because sir, the runes on the box definitely weren't military issue and I thought it'd be fun to investigate it myself." Setting the stuff on the table, she stepped back.

"What were you hoping to find," Kasandy asked.

Aaron spoke up quickly. "A lot of paper ash really, sir." He gave a nervous chuckle as he continued. "Maybe a few pictures or what not. Definitely not what we found, nor were we expecting this, sir."

First sergeant Sweet peered at Jessica's tail curiously. "Did that take extra effort," he inquired.

Jessica looked at the large male. "Did what take extra effort, first sergeant?"

"Using your tail just now?"

Perplexed, Jessica gave a shrug. "No first sergeant. In fact, it felt quite natural." She moved away and stood behind Aaron as if for protection.

"Are you afraid of us, Smith?"

Aaron turned slightly to look at her from his seat. She felt his eyes on her, but chose to look at the floor instead. "Yes first sergeant. As sergeant major Jenkins pointed out, we're not exactly human in appearance anymore. How many people are going to be able to look past the skin and see us as whom we are? How many are seriously going to be able to accept us? If we had turned to stone this morning, would there be a morning where we didn't come out of it because some maniac thinks were demons? I mean, Vasquez and I are shunned because of our religion. I can just see it being taken a step further and some Christian bible wielding hero wanna be – no offense – decides we're working minions of Satan? Hell first sergeant, I got called into the chaplain's office because of my bumper stickers are Pagan in nature. Yes I'm scared. I'm quite addicted to breathing and would like to continue doing so for as long as possible." A brief pause followed her spill before she added yet another, "First sergeant."

Monroe Sweet looked at this soldier. He had noticed her when she first arrived because then she dared not look at anyone directly. She had instead, kept her eyes forward like every soldier is trained to. She spoke with the proper title all the time at the beginning and end of every sentence. He remembered his truck master asking her back then if she was afraid of him. She had answered very much the same as she had just then, though stating her job compared to her gender, her religion, and finally her absolute fear of disappointing her mother. Yes, as a female mechanic she had received much criticism from her female peers – many of them claiming she chose the job just to be around all that testosterone. Had it not been for her friend Vasquez, Sweet was certain Smith would have given up a long time ago. Sweet stared at the female as she continued talking to him and the others. There was hope for the armed services if even half of today's recruits could turn out to be as determined as the two in front of him. "I can't speak for my fellow soldiers here Smith, Vasquez, but if you two are serious about continuing your military services, I will stand behind you 100."

Colonel Caldwell looked the young man over carefully for several long moments. "As of this moment, specialists Smith and Vasquez and the happenings we've been informed of are TOP SECRET. Gentlemen, lady, we need more information. How much leave time have you accrued?"

Jessica thought for a moment. "I have forty-five days of leave."

"Same here, sir," Aaron added.

Caldwell nodded. "As of this moment you are on temporary leave. You will be informed of when you can return to work as soon as we know what to do with you."

Aaron nodded. "Thank you, sir." He took in the men at the table as Jessica returned to the kitchen. "So, gentlemen, any other questions you want to know answers for before I ask a few of my own?"

"Why were you stone," Jenkins asked, clearly still awed by that part.

"I think it's a way of storing energy. According to the scroll, it's rumored that gargoyles may store solar energy in their stone form. One rumor claims it's a spell cast on the first gargoyles as punishment for something."

"Why would it affect you? You're not gargoyle by birth," Jack interrupted.

"Who knows, sir? It may have been worded to affect all gargoyles, so long as they were gargoyle. Maybe birth had nothing to do with it. Maybe the spell we cast last night – accidentally – was intended to act as the gargoyle that created the scroll."

Jessica stuck her head out of the kitchen and spoke to the group at the table. "Can we move to a more informal meeting? I mean, we are in my home and I'd like speak a bit more freely than 'freely', sir."

Colonel Caldwell nodded. "Of course we can, Smith."

"Thank you, sir," she sighed, disappearing back into the kitchen. Her voice floated through the room after a moment. "Hey Aaron, get yer tail in here and help a moment, please?"

Aaron moved to excuse himself, but the first sergeant waved him to sit back down. "I'll go, Vasquez," he said. He nodded to them and stood up, heading into the kitchen quietly for such a large man.

"Don't startle her, first sergeant. She tends to lash out when scared," the specialist cautioned from his seat.

The colonel frowned at Aaron. "What do you think we should do with you and Smith?"

Aaron took a moment before answering, knowing his next words could very well be his fate and that of his heart's desire. "Sergeant major I can't tell you what to do with us or even what I think should be done. I know I'd like to get more familiar with this form for starters. We can't learn everything through these scrolls." He dropped his head into his hands. "I can see us being useful in night recon assignments, airborne unit, or scare tactics," he sighed miserably.

"You make that sound like a bad thing," Gilhoon noted.

Aaron chuckled mirthlessly. "The last thing on Earth I want to be viewed as is a demon, but I'm willing to follow the orders of my superiors to in order to fulfill my enlistment." _And stay alive._

Caldwell had pulled out a small notebook and was writing things down in it. "Ok, so familiarization of bodies. Maybe we should see about someone you trust moving in with you for daytime protection if you feel it's necessary."

Aaron nodded weakly, the weight of what had happened finally hitting him full in the face. He was no longer human, but some sort of guardian of sorts. His normal life had been whisked away and yet he couldn't help but think that this life would prove better even with the problems already arising. He sat like that for a few moments longer while Jenkins continued listing things down. Sobbing reached his ears and his heart twisted in ache. "Excuse me," he muttered, moving towards the kitchen.

First sergeant Sweet held Jessica in a light embrace. They had been talking as they prepared something that would serve as a meal in such short notice. As the meal near completion, the specialist had fallen prey to every woman's weakness. She had cried. He resisted the urge to chuckle at the circumstances, afraid Smith would take it the wrong way. Instead, he allowed her to sob on his shoulder even though she was a bit taller than he was now. It was awkward for him as a military soldier, but as a male and a husband, he had comforted his wife plenty of time. He arched his eye brow over at the noise in the doorway and saw Vasquez. Nodding his head slightly, he indicated for the gargoyle to take over.

Aaron nodded in response as he moved to take the spot his first sergeant was offering. He wasn't given the chance.

Jessica straightened up and smiled weakly at Sweet. "You weren't supposed to ever see me cry," she mumbled. "Soldiers don't cry."

Monroe gave the young woman a smile before scooping up the batch of potatoes. "But people do." Balancing the bowl in one hand, he clapped her on the shoulder. "You're only human, Smith." With that, he grabbed the butter and left the room.

Aaron sighed heavily. "Reality hit you," he asked softly.

Jessica busied herself with pulling out the turkey she had warmed up. "Yeah," she replied after a long moment. "Kind of hard too. Aaron, what are we going to do?"

He shrugged. "Take it a day at a time?"

"I'm scared," she whispered to the floor.

"I am too, babe, but we've been up against a wall before and we made out all right. All we have to is stay strong." His tail wrapped around hers as he spoke.

She sniffled once before wiping her eyes on a paper towel and nodding towards the microwave. "Grab the veggies," she said. She quickly piled the turkey on a platter, stacked up some plates and forks, and headed for the dining room, silently thanking the Great Lady for her after school job as a waitress. Setting the things down around the still conversing higher ups, Jessica retreated back to the kitchen.

After a few minutes, everything had been placed on the table and the lull in conversation was filled with the clatter of silver wear and glasses against plates. It would be the colonel who would break the tense silence first. "We're going to need a couple of old photos, your enlistment contract, everything and anything on Wicca and Gargoyles, and whatever you think will be a help with your case. We'll also need you to compile as much information from these scrolls as you can by five A.M.. The more you give us to work with, the quicker we can get you back to work."

Aaron nodded. "I'll have all the information translated and on the table before sunrise."

"Good," Gilhoon responded. "Then it's settled. Kasandy will be back here before sunrise to collect the information."

"I can ask my wife to come over and keep an eye on you two today," Sweet offered.

"Think she'll freak," Jessica asked without thinking.

"No, I'll bring her over in the morning after explaining everything to her. Sir, I'll collect the information instead of Kasandy." Monroe knew that his wife was the type of woman who might be a bit startled, but was not afraid of anything. "She knows these two from our last company picnic and actually got along quite well with them."

Captain Gilhoon nodded. "Then we'll do that instead. Smith, Vasquez, get what you can done tonight done. Tomorrow night is probably going to be the longest night of your lives."

Midnight

Aaron flopped down on the couch, but instantly leapt back up with a yelp.

Jessica's wings snapped open as her eyes flared scarlet. "What's wrong," she growled, every nerve in her body tingling.

He grinned sheepishly, rubbing the smarting spot. "I, um, pinched my tail when I flopped down."

"Men," she muttered, settling back down. "So, are you finally done with all that information the captain wants?"

Nodding, Aaron pointed to a large folder of paper sitting near the scrolls. "That's everything I translated, everything I found on the web with any mentions of gargoyles or flying demons/beasts/what not. A lot of the net stuff is just rumors or junk on the glorified rain spouts, but I figured I'd give them as much info as I could. The battalion commander's a smart man, so I figure he'll understand why I put it in there. Also in there is a brief summary of our religion and how we believe it works. I also typed out a letter for us explaining our position on what happened and all. Why we didn't take our discovery straight to our chain of command and what not. You want to sign it?"

Jessica took the letter and looked it over. _Dear Sir; Our names are SPC Aaron Vasquez, 153-75-5602, and SPC Jessica Smith, 469-89-0836. Enclosed are pictures as of last night and just after sunset this morning along with pictures prior to this incident. Please allow us to explain what happened. On our field exercise to Yakima – 1993August11 to 1993August21 – SPC Smith found a sealed box covered in runes along with a small bag of scrolls. Both are translated and in front of you now. Being curious in nature and doubting it'd be more than a few pieces of junk, we took them both back with us to Fort Lewis. Two nights ago we sat and started looking over the scrolls, after partially opening the box. We were deciphering the scrolls when we came across a spell, in which the regents were available. The spell cast, the regents used, we found ourselves transformed to what you see in the pictures. Sir, we would like to continue our military services and perhaps even make it our careers. We are too well aware that some people will see us only as demons, creatures to be hunted and destroyed. We are not creatures. We retained our intelligence, our motor skills, and the like. We have new restrictions set upon us by this new lifestyle, but we have not been reduced in spirit or in dedication to our superiors. We are not what some will make of us, just different. We trust in your judgment and extend an invitation to our home if you need further assurance. Sincerely, SPC Vasquez, Aaron & SPC Smith, Jessica. US Army._ Jessica looked up from the letter, glaring at her friend. "You wrote this as if we both agreed on what to say here. I don't recall offering my input."

Shaking his head, Aaron handed her a pen. "First Sergeant Sweet's wife's gonna be here today. We don't have to worry about anything happening during the day and at night even you're strong enough to take out one unarmed man."

"You assume fanatics would be alone in the first place," she grumbled, scratching her name down with the pen. Holding it was awkward and her name looked little more than chicken scratch. Sighing, she tossed the pen down and dropped her head. "Gargoyle sized pens."

Struggling as well, he managed to sign his name below hers. "Wonder why no one ever thought of that."

"Items of necessity. It wasn't necessary, until now."

"You feeling better," he asked as he slipped the letter back on top of the folder.

"No."

"Why don't we go test these wings, eh? What do you say to jumping off your roof a few times?" He stood up, extending his hand her way.

Jessica looked at his hand as if it were a poisonous thing before arching her eye ridges. "Jumping off my roof? Could you not have termed that differently?" She let him take her hand and lead her to her room, towards the window that would lead to the roof above the kitchen. "I'll jump off the roof with you if you tell me what this did to you last night." Her talon traced the same spot her hand had been on when she assisted him with his shirt.

Aaron gave a low, sultry growl and spun around quickly to face her. "It did the same thing then that it did just now," he grit out through his clamped teeth. "Now let's go!" He practically dragged her onto the rooftop and then up even higher so that they stood beside the chimney.

Grinning like that cat that ate the canary, Jessica chuckled before asking, "So, how is this supposed to work?"

"In theory? We glide on hot air currents. Truthfully? I have no idea and no words of wisdom except this: try not to break anything when you land."

Her eyes went wide as he leapt off the rooftop, pulling her after him. "LAND?! We haven't even gotten into the aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaair." She found herself hovering for a few seconds and then plummeting to the ground.

"Jess. Jess! JESS! Open your damn wings, woman!" He moved in a small path over her falling form, wincing as he waited for the forth coming thud that he was sure he would hear. Instead, there was silence.

The wind was cold, so very cold, as it rushed briefly past her face. She was aware of Aaron yelling something about her wings. _Wings!_ That was it. Her wings flared open and leveled her descent just before she would have left a garg shaped crater in the ground beneath her. She skimmed the ground for several yards before faltering and crashing to the ground, tumbling to a stop.

Aaron tipped his wings towards his fallen friend, stifling his chuckles. To him it was like hang gliding, a sport that he had excelled at before joining the Army. Jess, having a dislike of heights, had only watched from the 'safety of the ground, thank you very much.' As he landed he caped his wings, but stumbled a step or two. _Ok, not a ten point landing, but a hell of a lot better than Jess'._ "Hun, you ok?"

Jessica, after noting nothing was broken, roared and launched herself at him. "Why is it you stayed in the air? How come your landing was a nine out of ten?"

Side stepping her, Aaron shook his head. "You remember all those hang gliding lessons I had? You know, the ones where you wanted to…"

"…watch from the safety of the ground, thank you very much," she finished with a shake of her head. "So, back to basics?"

"Back to basics."

Aaron worked diligently to get Jessica in the air and to keep her there. He wasn't even focusing on the landing yet. Not that it would have mattered as she couldn't stay aloft long enough to learn a proper landing technique. It took most of the remaining night for a strong steady flight around the grounds and back. He had managed to teach her the basics, adapting hang gliding to gargoyle gliding the best he could. Her landings weren't pretty, but at least she stopped landing on her face. Eventually, he concluded, she'd be able to make a presentable landing. She was just attempting her final landing of the night before they went back inside. He looked up from his musings just in time to brace himself for …

"Look out!"

…her running straight into him. He caught her and allowed himself to tumble backwards with her. A tangle of wings, tails, and limbs found him staring up into her eyes. "Hi beautiful," he chuckled.

"Hey handsome," she quipped back. "Thanks for the soft landing spot."

He reached a hand up to caress her cheek. "Anytime, babe. Anytime." She was so beautiful. Being turned into this gargoyle creature had not diminished her in any way. In fact, in his eyes, she'd had her inner beauty brought to surface. Her eyes sparkled with laughter as she rested her head briefly on his chest. His heart began to beat faster, but he hoped she didn't notice that. He turned her head so that she looked back at him and leaned up – his lips hovering towards hers. _Just a little close…_

The sound of the doorbell kept him from completing his thought.

"Ack," Jessica said as she jumped up, "that would be First Sergeant and his wife. Goddess, what was her name?"

"Vivian," he replied as he stood up and brushed the dirt from his pants. Trudging through the house, he opened the front door and managed to smile as he ushered in … "Sergeant Kasandy? Mrs. Kasandy? What are you two doing here? I thought… First Sergeant! What happened to your wife staying here?"

Sergeant Kasandy moved further in to an anxious looking Smith who stood near the table. He accepted the folder, scrolls, and box from her.

The first sergeant gave a chuckle and stepped aside to allow his wife to enter. "Specialist Vasquez, there has been a slight change in plans. My wife called his wife after our meeting broke up last night and asked if she would sit with her today. I hope that is ok with you," he explained. His manner almost made it clear that he'd hear no argument even if it bothered the specialist.

"That's fine, first sergeant, but why exactly?"

Vivian smiled. "Because a woman alone can get into trouble," she started.

"But two women can cause plenty of it," Kasandy's wife Rebecca finished.

Aaron looked at the women, trying to gauge their reactions. Neither of them seemed at all disturbed that they were in the presence of something not all together human looking. "I don't… scare you ladies," he asked tentatively.

Vivian and Rebecca spared him a second glance and shook their heads. "Should you," Rebecca asked. "I remember you and Smith coming over for dinner on a good number of occasions to end up playing the D&D stuff with Jack and the others."

"Yes," Vivian continued. "And you helped Monroe here with more than a few tasks after that storm ruined our home. You may not be human in appearance, but Monroe vouched that you hadn't changed on the inside and what have I always told you?"

He chuckled. "That it's what's on the inside that counts."

"Exactly. Now, where's Smith?" Vivian looked around for the female in question.

"She's over there," her husband answered. "It looks like Jack has the information we need. Now, you have everything you're going to need today, dear?"

His wife waved him off and went right over to her target. "Now, you tell me exactly what you need done today before they cut off our conversation."

Jessica stepped back and looked down at the older woman in slight surprise. "Um, I paid most of the bills online today. The only thing really left to do is get groceries. I made out a list and have some money here. Um," she gave a nervous chuckle before continuing, "just what are you going to do today to keep from being bored out of your mind, ma'am?"

"Don't you worry about me, young lady. I have Rebecca for company today. Her and I have some FRG stuff we can get taken care of while we're here. Do you have a computer and printer we could use if we need it?"

She nodded. "Yes ma'am. You can use that one there in the corner." She opened her mouth to say more, but Aaron's wrist watch went off.

Everyone turned to look at him, which caused him to go a bit scarlet under his green skin. "Sorry, that's my ten minute warning for estimation of sunrise," he explained. "So we wouldn't be caught in the air when we turned to stone."

Jack nearly dropped the folder he was holding. "You went flying?!"

"More like falling and crashing," mumbled Jessica.

"Actually," Aaron corrected her, "we went gliding. We can't fly." He realized that he might be clarifying that misconception for a very long time.

"I take it you didn't excel at it, Smith," the first sergeant commented.

Instead of answering with words, Jessica merely shook her head. She was not in the mood to recount her many, MANY connections with the ground. Even now, the scent of grass filled her nose – most unpleasantly, too.

First sergeant Sweet didn't push it any, but merely decided a topic change might be the best idea. "So, where are you two hanging around for the day?"

"Somewhere outside, I think. Last night we sort of ended up breaking something with that stone stuff we shed," Aaron answered.

"No," Rebecca interrupted. "Viv and I want to keep you two in our sights. You will stay inside and we put up screens or something to protect the rest of the house."

Jessica shrugged, not feeling up to an argument with people who were just looking out for her and her friend. With a sigh, she moved to the empty area under the stairs and sat down. "Is this ok then," she yawned.

Vivian nodded. "That'll satisfy us, if that's what you're asking."

Smiling, the gargoyle yawned again as Aaron joined her. "I never was much of a night person now that I think about it."

Chuckling, Aaron chose to remain standing. "Oh before I forget, I owe you something, love."

Standing with yet another yawn, Jessica blinked. "And what might that be?"

Aaron ran his talons lightly between his friend's wings. The scrolls said that this was a highly sensitive spot on the gargoyle body and stroking or touching was a form of stimulation. He felt her tense up for a second before trying to stifle a lusty growl of her own.

Turning, she glared daggers through the lust in her eyes. Her wings snapped open and she pointed her talon at his chest. "W…" The four humans would not learn what had happened because the sun decided to peek over the rim of the earth and freeze the two gargoyles in stone.

Sergeant Kasandy flipped through the scrolls' translation text and went looking for something that may help explain what had happened. Unfortunately, he was stopped by the first sergeant who had snapped a picture of the two staues.

"Let's go, Jack. We need to get moving."

Jack nodded, kissed his wife, and followed the first sergeant out the door.

Closing the door behind her husband, Rebecca looked at Vivian. "So, how are we going to help these two if they have all the information?"

Vivian had already sat down at the computer and was skimming the desktop. "Easy," she grinned and pointed to the screen. "We open this."

On the dragon clad background of the desktop was a folder icon labeled "Gargoyles".

--

FGR – Family Readiness Group – Used to prepare soldiers and their families for long term deployments. Usually works in conjunction with the FSG – Family Support Group - which you will hear a bit more about in future chapters.

Author's Note: I know it seems like Jess and Aaron are moving along fast, but if you're going to flame me for it, re-read chapter one before you start typing. Jess and Aaron have known each other for quite a while. And I don't know about other people, but when I read something that can be tested I generally have to find someone to try it on.

Coming up next time: "The Post Commander."


	3. Decisions

DISCLAIMER

DISCLAIMER!:

All the characters appearing in Gargoyles and Gargoyles: The Goliath Chronicles are copyright Buena Vista Television/The Walt Disney Company. No infringement of these copyrights is intended, and is not authorized by the copyright holder.

All other original characters belong to me and may not be used with my permission.

--

It was raining lightly by the time Jack Kasandy and Monroe Sweet arrived at the red brick building that would serve its part in deciding the fate of two soldiers. It was a moderate building, stretching just short of half a football field. Round white windows peeked out from the storage rooms, like they did in every brick building. The larger square ones revealed soldiers already as busy as a swarm of ants. Curtains shielded more than a few rooms from the over curious eye. From all appearances it looked like it was just going to be another typical day at Fort Lewis. However, nothing could be further from typical than the reason that had brought them there this morning.

Command Sergeant Major C.C. Jenkins and Captain Gilhoon stood in the doorway of the building. The CSM was a tall, muscular African-American man of about 38 with deep brown eyes and currently a thoughtful expression. Neither of them took notice of the other people moving around them in and out of the building. Deep in discussion, the captain barely glanced at those who remembered to salute him and didn't even bother with those who didn't. There was something much more important going on this morning that made rank seem trivial. It wasn't until Kasandy saluted them with the battalion motto of "Whatever it takes" did they look up and take notice.

"Did you get what we needed," Gilhoon asked.

The first sergeant nodded. "Yes sir we did."

"Good, we've got about twenty minutes before the battalion commander arrives and we need to see what we've got to work with," Jenkins said. "Let's go to the war room."

The conference room or War Room was huge. The best way to describe it was to say it was spacious – a large circular room where one could walk twenty-five paces from one side to the other. A horseshoe shaped table sat at the northern end of the room, framing half the circle with sort of an inner ring look to it – though broken in three places to allow a shorter trip to the center. Fifteen chairs sat between the table and the wall.

Taking four of the seats, the three men sat down and went over the information they had gotten – explaining it to the CSM as thoroughly as possible.

"So, gentlemen," Colonel Caldwell said as he entered, "where do we start?"

Jack Kasandy spoke up first. "Colonel Caldwell, we have under our command in my squad two soldiers who are, by means of some sort of magical spell, no longer human in appearance. They would be here this morning making their own case before you, but circumstances prevent that." His nerves were eating him up, but he continued. "You'll see before you a letter typed and signed by the soldiers in question, not to mention pictures of before, after, and this morning. Smith and Vasquez are what these scrolls describe as Gargoyles. Now, we've all seen the glorified rain spouts on the sides of building, but that's not what these two are." He rubbed his hands together nervously, realizing he was botching up bad. "What I'm trying to say is that Gargoyles are protectors. According to the scrolls, protecting others is a basic instinct in this race. Whether or not we want to accept it, magic exists. On some plane, some level, these two soldiers were able to tap into something that transformed them into their present state. We don't know what it is. These two are Wicca, so they believe that all things have a sort of energy or life force to it. That energy can be used for healing, protection, comfort – any number of things." Kasandy took a deep breath before continuing. "To be honest, I know very little about their faith. I'm a Christian. I'm just shooting from the hip of the information I have, which is what is in front of you all."

Monroe Sweet stood up and joined his NCO in the center of the ring. "What we must take into account is that these two soldiers could have just taken off and gone into hiding. Instead, they went through their chain of command starting with sergeant Kasandy and gave everyone a heads up on the situation. They are more than prepared to accept whatever decision we – their superiors – make for them. They've translated the scrolls for you, given you all the information they know. They've not lost anything in this transformation, except the day time. We spoke with them from the time the sun set until nearly ten. Nearly five hours! They've retained their intelligence, their speech capacity. They're nimble, strong, and they can glide."

"What it comes down to," Captain Gilhoon interrupted as he stood with the others, "is that these two soldiers are prepared to do anything necessary to complete their enlistment. They would gladly stay in and serve their country in whatever way Uncle Sam can use their new skills. This includes, quoting Vasquez, 'night recon assignments, airborne unit, or scare tactics'. They will take a discharge of whatever we feel is appropriate if that winds up the case. They will even leave Fort Lewis if ordered. They only ask that you do not lock them up in a science lab or have them destroyed."

Colonel Caldwell's eyes darted to the three men standing before him. "Why would we deny them the right to live?"

It was the command sergeant major who answered him. "They're afraid, sir."

The others turned to look at him.

"Honestly, I know less than anyone standing here on what happened these past two days, but from what I've heard, I can answer that last question." C.C. stood up and walked over to the commander's chair. "You have Smith, who just recently lost the rest of her family, and her friend Vasquez … how many times have we seen this pair on a task that had to be done in a limited amount – perhaps too short – of time and get it done? On the other hand, how many times have we had them in our offices for not following the rules of our military? Yes, they get the job done, but they didn't do it right or something. All other times, the consequences weren't so… disastrous. This time, the rules didn't really apply here. They found an old box. Nothing that I know of says that old boxes have to be turned in to the chain of command. They found some scrolls. Again, not military related. We'd probably have given them to the museum or something." He took a breath and continued. "They're afraid. They're not human in appearances, from my understanding. Look at how the military; hell, the world even; treats gays, immigrants, even the disabled. 'Good' people sneer in disgust or simply avoid these situations entirely. It would be below them to even acknowledge the differences in other 'normal' beings."

Caldwell nodded. "Yes," he responded, "I know. What are the benefits for the US Government if we keep these two soldiers in our great army? What can they offer Uncle Sam? I've gone through all the cons – several times, I might add. Media field day, mass public hysteria, religious hysteria ta boot. Why should they stay?"

Licking his lips, Chuck interjected. "It's a good question, really, but I think I have a good answer. You have before you the information and request on two hard working, dedicated, motivated, strong Wiccan soldiers, who by some strange coincidence found a box and some scrolls. Their belief in whatever – be it magic, faeries, pixie dust, whatever – gave them the ability to cast this spell and turned them into Gargoyles. Fate, coincidence, whatever. We are supposed to be a fair army, a fair military. Here we are, given that chance to prove it, and you're asking why? The army is the only family Smith has left. I know. I had to deliver the Red Cross message to her. Vasquez's family hasn't wanted anything to do with him since he met Smith. I'm not trying to pull out the sympathy card, but the facts are all in front of you. You say we're a great army. I say prove it. Put their new talents to good use. Let them stay in."

The colonel mulled his thoughts over briefly in front of the men standing before him. "A month is the length of time we have. I want Smith and Vasquez on leave for the next thirty days. Anyone ask; they're on special assignment."

"Sir?" Captain Gilhoon looked perplexed. "Why a month?"

"Because, captain," he replied. "That's how long you have to find me four soldiers who won't run screaming and who are willing to work nights for the rest of their time here. Waivers will be required. Dismissed."

The four men snapped to attention and marched out of the room. A glance at the clock revealed that more time had passed than it had felt.

"Sergeant, I want you to go check on your wife and Mrs. Sweet. Everyone else should get back to work." Captain Gilhoon headed for his office even before his soldiers responded.

Nodding, the four men went their directions.

--

"You did what," Jack asked of his wife when he had heard her out. "Where'd you get this information?" A small green pamphlet lay in his lap and a brown one lay next to him. One labeled "Gargoyles", the other "Wicca."

Rebecca nodded as she brandished a third pamphlet, this one white and labeled "Reaching Out." "We're educating people. We got the information from the computer here."

"How far out of hand do you two see this going," he sighed.

With an almost choreographed movement, both women crossed their arms and sighed. It was Vivian who spoke though. "Well, I don't expect a civil war over it, but I'm afraid religion will play a bigger part in it than rank and military training."

"Look," Jack said, "there are certain rules and decorum…"

"Jack," Vivian said in her smoothest tone, "sometimes decorum is thrown right out the window, along with the rights of other people. Monroe and I have seen it time and time again. I'm sure you and Rebecca have as well, you haven't recognized it." She paced briefly across the floor before stopping and speaking again. "Monroe and I were talking about this. People fear what they don't know. So if we get the information out to them they've no reason to fear gargoyles. If we wait, we could do more harm than good."

"But jumping the gun might not be the smartest way to deal with it either," he interrupted. "People aren't ready."

"Jack!" Rebecca's voice cut through the room. "They never will be ready. People are prejudice as is right now. With their monstrous, almost demonic features Smith and Vasquez don't stand a snowball's chance you know where right now."

"Ok, how do you plan on explaining magic?"

His wife chuckled as she walked over to him and kissed him lightly on the nose. "There are some things, my dear husband, that have no explanations. You just have to believe."

--

_Several hours later_

Sunset was creeping closer and closer as the shadows stretched across the room. Turning on a light, Rebecca went to check the estimated time for sunset one more time.

"Bec, I doubt it changed any from the last three times you looked at it," yawned Jack. "Why don't you go help Viv in the kitchen, hm?"

Nodding, Rebecca took a look at the assembled people in the room before heading for the kitchen.

--

A tell tale network of cracks could be heard appearing on the surfaces of the two statues, but two screens blocked the sight from being seen. Only the first sergeant stood near the screens, waiting with rapt fascination for the minute explosion that he had witness the last night. He was also there to give commands, but he seriously doubted that watching these two wake up would ever get old. It was only seconds later that two loud roars filled the room – causing most of those assembled to flinch – followed almost immediately by First Sergeant Sweet snapping out, "ATTENTION!"

The result was instantaneous. Smith and Vasquez snapped upright and stood stock still.

Chuckling, Colonel Caldwell moved towards the other. "Relax soldiers. We're only here to fill you in on the details of today's meeting." He would continue talking for a few long minutes before coming to the point. "We are a fair military. We employ all sorts of people from all sorts of places with all sorts of backgrounds. That in mind, you will be allowed to continue your military services until a final decision is reached. All the information you have given us is deemed classified. As of this moment, you both are leave for the next thirty days. Familiarize yourselves with your new bodies, learn to use your wings, and work out any business you can over the internet or phone at night. You will be under the watchful eyes of your superiors. If within this next month we can not find a more permanent position for you in the company, you will be on 'special extended assignment' while we investigate other options. If within a year we can not find a safe position for you in the military, – safe being where you will not be shattered during your sleep - you will be discharged and allowed to leave. Now, if there are no questions, we shall take our leave of you."

A stunned silence filled the room for a half a moment before voices broke out all around the room. The loudest one belonged to Smith herself as she said, "What the hell do you mean "no questions", sir? I for one have about a dozen."

Captain Gilhoon commanded everyone's attention by bellowing, "Attention!"

The two gargoyles locked up.

C.C looked at Smith carefully for a long moment; he even stepped around her to get a complete view of the female. "You forget, specialist, that you are still a part of the US military. Would you care to rephrase that last question?"

Jessica nodded. "Yes, sergeant major, I would. What I meant to say was that I have a few questions, sergeant major."

The colonel nodded. "Permission to speak, Smith."

"Sir," she started. "What's going to happen when people start asking about us, sir? I mean we do have fellow soldiers who will want to know why they haven't seen us, sir."

"Special assignment, classified. Even you understand that, yes?"

"Sir, yes sir," she replied.

Vasquez spoke up. "Sir, who do we report to now?"

Caldwell allowed himself a smirk. "The same men who defended you do diligently this morning and all day. It was they who suggested this meeting this evening. You are to still follow your chain of command, should anything else come up during your leave." He turned to look at Smith, who had found his shoes quite interesting. "Smith?"  
"Sir," she questioned. "Do you think they'll make gargoyle sized footwear?"

That broke the tension. The assembled group chuckled at the female, who still looked down at the shoes in confusion.

"No, Smith," he replied. "I don't think they will." He turned to the others. "On that note, I shall depart. Good night ladies, gentlemen."

Nodding that he understood, Vasquez replied, "Yes sir. Thank you, sir." He closed the door as the colonel walked down the sidewalk. Half a breath later, there was silence once again.

_Silence. It can be so loud at times. I can feel every beat of my heart pounding like a drum in my ears. I'm forcing out every breath I take. It's really tough to say how I feel right now. I'm sort of numb all over and yet every part of me feels like it's on fire. I've lost. Aaron and I are on our own again – only this time, we're not alone._ A smile spread on Jessica's lips as she fell out of attention and let loose with a hearty chuckle. "I hate politics," she said between chuckles.

Aaron stared at her. "Oh great, she snapped."

The rest of the room was inclined to agree, but no one said anything out loud. It wasn't until Vivian and Rebecca stepped out of the kitchen did any one move. It was Vivian who would ask, "Did we miss something?"

Aaron shook his head. "No. Not really." he mumbled. He reached down and pulled Jessica up to a semi standing position.

She clapped him on the back. "We'll do it, babe. One person at a time." With a grin, she turned to the room at large. "My friends, I smell good food and it would be a shame to let it go to waste. Let us eat and be merry, for there is nothing that when given time can not be solved."

That said, the tension in the room evaporated a bit and they did indeed sit down to a good meal – for they shared it among friends.

--

Author's Note: You haven't seen the end of these characters. I mean there's still so much more I want to do with these guys.  Keep an eye out for Smith, Vasquez, Gilhoon, Sweet, Kasandy, and Jenkins in upcoming fics.

Please leave a review. Let me know what you'd like to see them doing outside the military.  Blessed be!


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